


got the shakes, body rippling (it’s enough to shatter my bones)

by fuckedlarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Powerbottom, Reality, Riding, Smut, bottom!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:25:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckedlarry/pseuds/fuckedlarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry needs to be taught a lesson. One of the things he ends up learning is that just because Louis’ a bottom, doesn't mean he can’t be in control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	got the shakes, body rippling (it’s enough to shatter my bones)

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr at [fuckedlarry](http://fuckedlarry.tumblr.com) :)  
> this fic was written for [this](http://fuckedlarry.tumblr.com/post/49822707412/could-you-do-a-power-bottom-louis-please-thanks) prompt i got there asking for powerbottom!louis.  
> 
> 
> um so apparently i'm not too good at writing louis as the dominant one. oh well.  
> as always, comments/kudos are amazing! enjoy! x

Louis hates Nick fucking Grimshaw with a fiery passion.

The older man’s a pretentious hipster twat who’s always making fun of Louis for various things – his size, his voice, his immaturity, his  _arse_  – and yet for some reason Harry still loves the guy, and Louis hates it.

It’s not like Louis’ jealous, not really – he knows Harry is and always will be a faithful boyfriend and that Nick and him are just best mates, but Louis just can’t stand how Harry nearly worships the ground the radio show host walks on. Louis can hardly tolerate the guy. (He doesn’t, actually. He makes it his life mission to call Nick out on all the bullshit he spouts out.)

It’s for these reasons that Louis is less than happy when Harry mentions that he’s invited Nick to come over to their flat that night for drinks.

“Why would you  _do_  that?” Louis whines. “You know I hate him.”

“Yeah, but I really think you guys could be good friends!” Harry argues, eyes twinkling at the thought of his boyfriend and his best friend making nice. “You two really are similar, you know.”

“We are  _not_ ,” Louis protests, crossing his arms in front of his chest and pouting. “Me and Grimshaw are nothing alike. I’m nothing like that prick.”

Harry just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Lou. He’s still coming over. Just  _behave_.” Harry says sternly.

Louis huffs en lieu of a reply, his bottom lip still pushed outwards. (That is, until Harry leans in and kisses the pout off his lips and he can’t help but giggle.) (He’s still miffed that Nick’s coming over though.)

+

When the doorbell rings that night announcing Nick’s arrival, Louis sighs, long and drawn out, and flops himself down onto the couch, burying his face into the cushions. It’s stupid and childish, but to be honest, Louis really doesn’t give a shit.

Harry smacks his arse when he passes by on his way to open the door for Nick and Louis just growls at him, the noise getting muffled by the couch cushion. A simple affectionate gesture is not going to make him feel any better, no matter who it’s delivered by.

Louis groans as he hears the door swing open and doesn’t stop groaning when he hears Nick’s obnoxious laugh. Footsteps sound through the flat and then Harry and Nick are both in the living room and –  _here we go_.

“Why don’t you sit up properly, darling?” Nick suggests instead of greeting Louis, voice taking on a sweet and unequivocally condescending tone. “God knows you spend more than enough time moaning with your arse up already.”

Louis hears the distinct sound of Harry smacking Nick. He feels a swell of pride for his boyfriend. Louis himself just snorts, and mutters a, “What a twat,” into the pillow his face is pressed into.

“What was that, love?” Nick asks, and Louis looks up to see him smirking down at him, a bottle of some expensive wine in his hand, and his hair up into a ridiculously steep and curled quiff.

Louis can hear Harry puttering around in their kitchen, probably getting some glasses out for them and looking for some equally as expensive drink to impress Nick with.

“I said that I’m absolutely delighted that you’re joining us tonight,” Louis replies, smiling as innocently as he can manage.

Nick snorts. “Thought so.”

+

Later that night finds Louis sitting on the floor,  in between the couch and the coffee table, glass in hand and well on his way to drunk.

Harry and Nick are laughing together at some inside joke that Louis’ not in on. It’s possible that it’s about him. Nick’s been making not-so-subtle digs at Louis all night and after his first drink, Harry’s stopped trying to defend him and has laughed at every one since.

Nick turns to Louis, then, face pulled into a dumb crooked grin. (Louis wants to punch if off his stupid fucking face.)

“So I saw that fight on Twitter between you and The Wanted,” He says casually, waving the hand he hasn’t got clasped around a glass in the air aimlessly.

“Oh yeah?” Louis replies without making eye contact with Nick, voice monotone.

“Yeah, and I must say, it was quite cute.” Nick teases, leaning forward in his place on their loveseat to get closer to Louis and draw his attention to him, and Louis takes the bait, turning his head to glare at him. “Too bad you’re too tiny to do any damage in real life. All talk and no walk.”

Louis just scoffs and looks away, taking another sip from his glass.

Harry laughs from his place behind Louis, seated on the couch.

“All talk and no walk,” He repeats, words broken up by drunken giggles. “He’s so right, babe! Like a little kitten hissing at everything!”

Louis scowls but stays silent, hoping they’ll just get back to talking about stupid obscure bands so that he can drink in peace.

“Everything’s so tiny about him, though,” Nick muses. “Everything but his arse. Bet you like that, eh Harry?”

“Mm, yeah,” Harry slurs. “And you’re a slut for me with it aren’t you, Lou?”

Harry pats Louis on the head at those words and he and Nick dissolve into fits of laughter. That’s it for Louis, who sets his glass down harshly and stands up.

“I’m  _right here_.” Louis growls, spinning to glare pointedly at his younger boyfriend. “I expected this from Nick, sure, but not from  _you_.”

The last thing Louis sees before he storms away is Harry’s face, lips quirked down in a frown, looking apologetic. Louis pauses in the doorway to their shared bedroom to listen to what Harry and Nick have to say about his angry departure.

“Guess we hit a nerve,” Nick says, and Louis can practically hear the shrug in Nick’s voice. “We were right though, weren’t we?”

That’s the last straw and Louis slams the door angrily. For that reason, he doesn’t hear Harry telling Nick to stop, and to leave, and that he wants to check up on Louis and make sure they didn’t upset him too much because he didn’t mean it, doesn’t want that. He never wants that.

Meanwhile, Louis’ fuming in their bedroom, drunk and pissed off because no matter how much Nick makes fun of him, Harry usually just laughs it off, and doesn’t  _join in_. Not this time though.

This definitely deserves punishment.

+

As soon as Harry steps into their bedroom after shooing a confused and drunk Nick out of their house, Louis is pressing him back against their door.

“Are you –  _oof_!” Harry says as Louis’ body collides with his.

“You think that was funny, huh Haz?” Louis asks calmly, voice levelled and expression cold, his arms holding Harry tightly against the door.

Harry could easily get out of his grasp – he’s much bigger and stronger – but he’s drunk and uncoordinated and he doesn’t want to anger Louis even more.

“No, babe, I swear I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” Harry apologizes, trying to bring a hand up to grab onto his boyfriend’s hand, but Louis’ grip is too tight.

“Really?” Louis asks, face twisting into a sneer, voice gruffer than usual. “Why ever would you say it if you  _didn’t mean it_?”

“I don’t know, I’m so sor-” Harry tries to say, but Louis cuts him off.

“You think I’m a slut? I’ll show you who’s  _really_  the slut here,” Louis hisses, pulling back from Harry for a second before grabbing onto him and forcing him over to the bed.

“What are you-?” Harry asks, but Louis interrupts him again.

“Shut up, strip down completely, and lie down against the pillows,” Louis orders.

Harry opens his mouth to acknowledge him, but remembers his first request and closes it again, before obeying his second and third and taking off his clothes and climbing onto the bed. Harry can’t help but be half-hard at Louis’ dominance – it’s really turning him on, and his cock is slowly fattening up as he hardens.

Louis gets onto the bed himself, still fully clothed, and crawls over to position himself above Harry. 

“Wow, look how hard you are for me already,” Louis purrs, taking Harry’s cock into his palm and moving his hand up and down on it a few times, smirking at the way Harry moans and pushes up against him. “And you were calling  _me_  the slut.”

Harry stays silent at that, biting his lip to keep from moaning again.

“Here’s how this is going to happen,” Louis says casually as if about to list the day’s events, trailing a finger up and down Harry’s bare chest, gently outlining the tattoos there, while slowly grinding against Harry.

“You’re going to be quiet, you’re not going to move, and you’re going to keep your hands,” Louis grabs onto Harry’s wrists and sets them above his head, against the headboard. “ _here_ , or I’ll tie them. You’re not to touch yourself. Understood?”

Harry nods frantically and Louis smirks.

“Good.”

Louis can feel Harry’s prick, hard and hot and throbbing against his thigh, but he’s not ready to touch him the way he so desperately wants just yet. Instead, Louis gets off of him, ignoring the younger boy’s muffled whimper, and grabs their bottle of lube from the bedside drawer, before lying back down at the bottom of the bed, holding himself up with his elbows.

He pulls his shirt off, then, followed by his trousers, and then his pants. When he looks up to Harry, the curly-haired boy is practically salivating, eyes hooded and glassy from both the drinks and being aroused.

Louis squirts lube off onto his fingers then and watches the way Harry’s eyes widen as he realizes what he’s about to do.

“Watch me,” Louis tells him, voice already hoarse. “Gonna open myself up for you.”

He brings his hand down to tease below his balls then, trailing a finger down his taint and circling the rim of his hole with it. He shudders, the sensation already pleasurable. Without further ado, he pushes a finger inside himself, moaning exaggeratedly as he does for Harry’s benefit.  

When he looks up, Harry’s mouth is parted and is breath is coming out in short pants. His arms are shaking, too, and he looks like it’s really paining him not to reach down and touch himself.

Louis starts pushing the finger in and out of himself rapidly, his hole clenching around his finger as he tries to stretch himself out. He crooks his finger and jabs it right into where he knows his prostate is and he moans, long and low and genuine this time.

Soon enough, he’s got three fingers inside himself fucking in and out, stretching his tight hole out as best as he can, eyeing the size of Harry’s cock.

Harry’s got a tortured expression on his face and he’s got his hands balled into fists as he watches on, eyes dark with lust.

Louis takes pity on him and decides to finally help him out with his hard-on, withdrawing his lubed-up fingers from himself and wiping them carelessly on the bed sheet.

“Keep your hands up there,” Louis warns as he crawls back over to Harry, taking the bottle of lube with him and putting it down next to them.

He settles himself on Harry’s thighs, his own cock pressed up against Harry’s. He grinds against the younger boy a few times, loving the tiny, quiet whimpers he gets from him, before sitting back down and grabbing the lube.

Louis takes in how hard Harry is – his cock is standing up against his stomach, an angry red colour and leaking precome from the tip.

Louis pushes some lube out onto his palm and smirks up at Harry, head tilted downwards and looking at him through his eyelashes.

“Are you going to be a good boy, baby?” Louis asks, voice soft and sweet, watching as Harry nods.  “I know you will.”

He puts his palm to Harry’s hard cock, then, spreading the lube all over his long length, making sure to cover it generously. They usually forgo using a condom for reasons they’ve previously discussed, and today’s no different.

Louis takes a deep breath before moving closer to Harry’s dick and lifting himself up, hovering above him.

“I bet you can’t have as much fun with Nick as you can here with me,” Louis growls, before sinking himself down on Harry’s cock, moaning out as he does.

He lowers himself down slowly, using a guiding hand to feed Harry’s shaft deeper into himself. Eventually he’s fully seated, arse sitting fully atop Harry’s thighs.

Harry’s got his face tilted away from him and his teeth are biting into his forearm to keep from making any noises. 

 Louis gives himself a few moments to adjust, before he’s lifting himself up, moving up and down on Harry’s cock. The friction and tightness Harry’s feeling on his length is unbearable and he can’t help but let out a loud moan, his face immediately looking guilty as he realizes what he did.

“Did I say you could make any noises?” Louis hisses, still moving up and down atop Harry.

Harry shakes his head.

“I didn’t think so. Now  _be quiet_.”

 Louis brings his hand up to Harry’s chest and digs his fingers into the dips of his collarbones, his nails creating tiny crescent moon-shaped indents in the skin there.

He grips there as he picks up speed, riding Harry’s cock with a fury. Despite his best attempts, Harry can’t help but let out little breathy whimpers of pleasure, bucking his hips up to fuck into Louis.

Louis is not having that, though, and he lets go of Harry’s collarbones and grabs onto his hips, pushing him down and pressing him into the mattress, holding him still.

“Stop – fucking – disobeying – me,” Louis pants out, voice choppy and breaking off every time his arse slaps against the skin on Harry’s thighs.

 Louis picks up the pace even more, working his thighs hard as he lifts himself up and down. He’s tiring out quickly, but he’s just found the perfect angle that presses right into that sweet spot inside him and sends jolts of electric pleasure through his nerves each time he drops down.

He’s desperately chasing his release, no longer caring how loud Harry’s being, but he huffs out when he feels how Harry’s abdomen tenses.

“You’re not coming until I tell you that you can,” Louis tells him sternly. “And that’s not until after I do.”

Harry screws his eyes shut tightly, biting his lip so hard Louis’ surprised he doesn’t draw blood, but he nods his agreement obediently.

Their skin is slick with sweat and Louis can feel himself becoming dizzy from a combination of arousal, exhaustion, and the alcohol coursing through his veins.

Harry is full out moaning now but Louis can’t bring himself to care – he’s too close to climax.

Louis laces the fingers of one of his hands into Harry’s curls and pulls his head up to his face to meet their lips in a bruising kiss, the other hand reaching down to pump his cock. It sparks just the thing that tips Louis over the edge and he comes hard, splattering against both of their chests and painting them white.

Louis whines as he does, a high, strangled noise being ripped from the back of his throat, and he can feel himself tightening around Harry.

He knows how that feels and after he’s caught his breath, he decides to relent and let Harry reach the release he needs, leaning in to brush his lips against Harry’s ear.

“You can come now, baby,” He whispers, voice sultry and seductive. “Come for me. Come  _inside_  me.”

Harry tenses even more before shuddering as he orgasms, filling Louis up with his come. He drops his arms, then, bringing them down to hold onto Louis’ hips, helping the boy roll off of him.

Louis lies down and curls up next to Harry, body tired and limp, and whimpers as he feels Harry’s come suddenly dribble out of his tender hole.

“I’m leaking,” He whispers to his boyfriend conspiratorially.

Harry laughs breathlessly and looks down to see that Louis’ right.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” He says, pressing a quick kiss to Louis’ lips.

“It’s uncomfortable, that’s what it is,” Louis says, making Harry laugh again.

They’re silent for a few moments as Harry reaches over to get tissues for them to clean themselves up before they can go to sleep.

“I’m sorry for what happened with Nick,” Harry says quietly as he wipes Louis’ chest down, nuzzling his face into Louis’ neck.

 “You learned your lesson though, didn’t you?” Louis asks dazedly.

“Yeah, of course, babe,” Harry replies, and then a few moments later, quietly says; “I learned that if me and Nick are dicks to you, he goes home confused and I get laid.” 

Louis bursts into laughter at how cheeky Harry’s being.

“Fuck off, you tosser.” 


End file.
